Sirius Monologues
by AJRoald
Summary: Sirius is bored and begins to reflect and ponder about many things. Set during OotP
1. Misc Ramblings

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N - There really is no excuse for this story...it was just something that found its way into my computer, go figure. This is not beta'ed, nor will I probably bother. Many fragments were left that way on purpose, just so you know.

* * *

What else do you do when you have nothing but time on your hands? Remus is off doing _something_ for the Order, Harry and the other kids are at Hogwarts, Molly and Arthur have returned to the Burrow, so that leaves me. Here. I hate it here.

I do the crossword in the Daily Prophet daily, but that can only stimulate your mind so far. I've held countless conversations with Buckbeak, and he seems none too interested in anything I have to say. That bloody little wretched house-elf avoids me, which is for the best anyway.

I've read every book this damnable house has in it, at least once, many twice. I even found a sappy romance novel I can only assume one of the girls had been reading and left here. Neither one really strikes me as the type. Perhaps it was Tonks. Maybe Remus. No, not Remus.

So this is my life--sitting here, day after day, waiting for a time when I can do something useful. Something worthwhile. Something… so I can tell Snape to shove it up his bloody… well, never mind that. At least it's not Azkaban, for that I am thankful.

I've been allowed to leave on rare occasions. I still have to turn into my Animagus form. Not that I mind, but for once I'd like to walk down Diagon Alley or into Kings Crossing as the man I am, not hiding in some animal form like a coward.

If it weren't for Harry, I wouldn't care. But Harry's lost so much already. So have I for that matter. Moony too.

Moony… what's there to say about Moony? He's my best mate. At least we try to still be best mates. A lot has changed. Part of the reason the whole mess with the Potters ever happened is because I didn't trust him. Peter talked James and me into not trusting him. Damn bastard anyway.

So Moony spent twelve years thinking I had betrayed them and killed Peter, and I spent twelve years rotting in Azkaban. The fact that we didn't trust him still hurts, but he won't let on.

Remus will never know just how sorry I am for that rift in our friendship. If only I hadn't listened to that little rat, James and Lily would probably still be alive, but I can't think of such things anymore.

I had dreams once. Dreams of what I'd do, where I'd go, who I'd shag, who I'd marry. Yes, Sirius Black had dreams of getting married. And having children, lot's of children. OK, after having the Weasleys here, maybe not lots, but three. Yes, three.

I was going to be a dad like James' dad. The one who laughed with their children, slapped them on the back when they had done something right, one who worried when they did something stupid. I was going to read to them, bedtime stories. No one ever read me a bedtime story. At least, I don't remember ever having one read to me.

I was going to work for the Ministry after the war was over, doing what, I had no idea. I was going to be brilliant though, hell, maybe even Minister of Magic someday. I couldn't have done any worse than that bumbling idiot Fudge! I can't even leave my ruddy house.

My wife was going to be the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. I thought she would have the deepest blue eyes, like the night sky, and long, dark hair, black, like mine. She'd be tall and slender, and meld into my body as if we were one. I never got the chance to meet her. I hope that whatever bloke she ended up with appreciates her the way I would have.

Cook. I had always wanted to learn to cook. Not just bangers and eggs, but fancy stuff. Stuff like they serve in fancy restaurants. Perhaps that's what we would have done, opened a fancy restaurant, maybe in Diagon Alley or Hogsmead. So much for dreams.

OK, so I drink on occasion. Not that there is any real thrill in it anymore, it just passes time. I seem to have a lot of it to pass. I don't even particularly like the taste of Firewhiskey, but it doesn't burn when it goes down anymore. And no, contrary to popular belief, I don't drink because I'm brooding and depressed; it's just something to do.

Moony doesn't seem to approve of drinking. Well, that's not an entirely accurate statement. Just after Harry and them all left to go back to Hogwarts, we both sat and got thoroughly pissed. But he doesn't approve of how much I manage to put away. He won't say it, but I know. He has this look, a look of disappointment. I hate it when he's disappointed in me.

I hate it when anyone is disappointed in me. Well, anyone except my family. I lived to disappoint them. Prejudice arses! I knew from the moment that sorting hat said "Gryffindor", my life would be different, just hadn't surmised it would be quite _that _different.

I live for posts. They are mostly from Harry, but once in awhile I'll get one from Remus and sometimes even Ron or Hermione. Fred and George wrote once, when they found out I was one of the original Marauders. They thought that was 'bloody brilliant'. Perhaps it was.

Ginny never writes. Once in awhile Harry or Hermione will include a line that says she said to say hullo, but she never writes. I don't know why this bothers me. I'd write to her, but I think that it would be seen as 'inappropriate'.

Harry and Ron told me about what happened with that 'Chamber', but I could never bring my self to ask her. I just wanted to know if she was all right, really. It rather seemed to me that everyone else tended to forget. Even Harry. When he told me, he didn't seem all that concerned that she had been possessed by dark magic. That just seemed odd to me. But then again, no one seems to want to think, or at least talk about; the effect twelve years with dementors has had on me.

So there you have it, boredom to the millionth degree. Perhaps I'll start a journal, but not now.


	2. Journaling? I think not

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N – Again, there is no excuse for these ramblings, other than I need a break from some of the other stories I'm currently working on (and the characters in them). Again, this is not beta'ed, so please forgive what mistakes there may be (and I'm notorious for them, so I'm sure they are there). A great big thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter!

* * *

There was an order meeting tonight, so the house was pretty full of activity. Tonks is spending the night. I'm not sure it's necessary, or if she's trying to get Remus to notice her. Probably the latter, although that thought disturbs me.

Not that I don't think he couldn't use a girlfriend, or at the very least a good shag, but Tonks? She can hardly walk without hurting herself or someone else, let alone…you know what, I'm not even going to go there. Bad mental picture!

I wish I could do more for Harry. From what Dumbledore has said Harry is having a rather rough year. But all I can do is write letters. Bloody hell, I'm sick of this.

Remus is back for a bit though, that's good. Someone other than myself and a hippogriff to talk too. He saw that sappy romance novel sitting on the table in the study, looked at it then over at me, and preceded to laugh. What nerve! If only I would have had something to throw at him at that moment.

Molly, as much as we disagree about many things, thinks I'm starving to death. She must. She's here for less than three hours and she fixes a meal worthy of royalty. Don't ever tell her I said that. She wouldn't believe you anyway. She thinks I'm as haughty and insincere as every other aristocrat. Seems that she has readily forgotten the twelve years I spent locked away in Azkaban.

From the sound of things, I'll be cooped up here for the rest of my life. The Ministry is giving Dumbledore a hard time, as well as trying to discredit everything Harry has ever said. How can they ignore this? Is the man that daft? How many people are going to have to die before they pull their heads out of their arses? And me, stuck here not able to do a damn thing!

Sorry for the interruption, Remus kept looking at me like I had grown cucumbers out of my ears. I'm not sure I haven't. Writing. Writing when I have perfectly good company around. I must be losing my grip!

Anyway, in his best little prissy arse attitude (I'm allowed to say that, I'm his best mate) he said that writing in a 'journal' was a good idea. I tried to explain to him it's not a journal, just some random thoughts I was jotting down so they would quit twirling around in my head.

He gave me one of those 'you keep on thinking that, Sirius' smiles, and went off to the kitchen to make some tea.

Tea. I'm certain this is the sole cause of the colonists to have defected to America. It's vile, really. Have you tried it? Moony and Molly both use bags, and not that I'd dare complain to either one (although Remus is forever and always apologizing for it), it's worse than gutter sludge. It's hard to believe that everyone thinks the whole of England sits around and drinks tea.

I did get a chance to talk to Remus about that 'Chamber'. I know, I must sound obsessive. Maybe I am. But I'm not the only one who seems to think the whole incident was shined over by everyone a little too easily.

He was telling me about the dementors on the train when I had escaped from Azkaban, and her horrible reaction to them. He was certain that it had something to do with the ordeal. But other than Dumbledore telling him about it before he began to teach, no one ever brought it up. He just made sure to keep an extra close eye on the youngest red head.

He had muttered something about her eyes being haunted before we were interrupted by the arrival of other order members, so I sat the entire meeting, thinking about her eyes. Now I must really sound sick. Or you must be sick for thinking it. Probably that.

He was right, though. She had old eyes if you looked past the exuberant surface. The surface to which she tried to maintain the innocents everyone expected to see there. The happy child, who wasn't supposed to realize that they were so poor that she would probably never own a brand new dress. Who was stuck in boys' hand-me-downs, yet told to be a girl.

I'd like to give some of the money in my Gringotts vault to them, but I already know they are too proud to take it. Harry told me about how he finagled Ron new dress robes by 'investing' in 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' with Fred and George. Hm…now there's a thought.

What am I going to do with all that money anyway? Remus wont take any of it either. And if anyone needs a new robe, it's Moony. He won't even take enough to buy a bloody robe. Sometimes I think he feels bad enough living here most of the time.

I wish he wouldn't. We need each other, in an odd sort of way. We are each other's link to the past, all that's left of the happy times. Happy times, now there's a thought. It's hard to believe out of two lives so full of hardships, there were happy times. But there were.

Carefree times, when the only thing that was important was what the next prank we were going to play on Snivelus (that's what we, ok, maybe just James and me, used to call Snape). Or the next trip to Hogsmead was, and after fifth year, when the next full moon was.

Ah, fifth year. The year Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs came into being. The Marauders. Don't know how we ended up with that name, really. Probably that map that somehow ended up in the hands of the Weasley twins and subsequently Harry. We were a force to be reckoned with, we were.

I miss those days. I miss the days of being young and carefree. When our only worries were not getting caught by Filch, McGonagall or Dumbledore. How quickly things change.

Well, I suppose I've droned on enough to this piece of parchment, and Moony's back with the tea. Better enjoy the company while I can.


	3. More Musings

Standard disclaimer applies.

A/N - This will actually end up having a small plot at the end...at least a little interesting twist I hope. Thanks for all who have read/reviewed. Again, this story is not beta'ed, please forgive me.

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What a bloody wretched day. Remus is in one of the foulest moods I think I've ever witnessed, and it's not even the full moon. He really needs to get himself a girlfriend. And Tonks is all bent out of shape because it is apparently NOT going to be her. For this, I am thankful.

You see, my dearest cousin put the moves on dear old Moony last night. Not that either would actually _tell_ me any of this, but Fred and George have some brilliant ideas. (Ever heard of their extendable ears?) Poor Remus; didn't know quite what to make of it all, but apparently he doesn't find Nymphadora to be his type.

I didn't actually know Moony had a type; I thought breathing and female pretty much covered it. Apparently, I was mistaken. (I promise. I'll quit laughing in a minute.)

A girlfriend. What a thought. Not that I have a blizzards chance in hell at ever having one again. I actually think I might have forgotten how to snog. Nah, nix that. I'm sure I'd remember if the opportunity presented itself. As long as it isn't with a dementor.

What would I do with a girlfriend anyway? It's not like I ever had anything that even came close to resembling a serious relationship while at Hogwarts. Think the closest I came was with that Terry gal from Ravenclaw, or was it Carry? And let's forget the fact that most people still think I'm a convicted murderer. Oh well, nice to think about once in awhile.

Just got a post from Harry today. Something is wrong, but I can't quite tell what. I wish I could just sit and talk with him. I miss having them all around. Watching Harry, Ron and Hermione kind of reminded me of my youth. But Harry is haunted, and no one can seem to get to him.

Well, that's not completely true. Ginny spoke her mind to him over the summer, and he seemed to stop and listen to her. Perhaps it's because she didn't take any of his sulky crap.

Not that I would ever agree with anyone who said Harry was being sulky, at least out loud. The kid has had a rough life, and it just seems to continue to get worse. How would you like to be told at the age of eleven that you were the wizarding world's last hope from the evil known as Voldemort? I sure as hell wouldn't. Besides, he needs people on his side, and that's where I intend to stay.

And because of that, people tend to think I'm blind towards Harry; don't see what's really going on. Remus often accuses me of thinking of him as James. It would be easy to do--he looks just like him. Well, except for the eyes. Kid has his mum's eyes. If you had known Lily, you'd know that those eyes are haunting, really.

But thinking of Lily hurts too much. Not that there was ever anything going on between us like some people like to think. No, that's not it at all. Lily was always meant to be James' girl; there was never any doubt about that (even when they didn't get on well).

Lily was just, well, special. She left her mark on everyone she touched. She'd tell you if you were being an insufferable prat, or help you out of a jam (even if you did get yourself into it). I really miss Lily.

But back to Harry. Oh yes, people think I'm blind to his attitude. Far from it. Do I look that stupid and inane to you? You know what, don't answer that. Let me just say, I'm not. And I think the kid has the right to know what's going on. I hate the fact they keep him out of the Order meetings. This whole damn war rests on his shoulders. He needs to know; has the right to know. And I've been sworn not to tell him more than I already have.

He's made good friends, though. Hermione is smart, and you couldn't find a more loyal friend than Ron, even when they are on the outs. Seems to me (and just about everyone else) that Ron and Hermione are headed towards a relationship though. They must be; they fight way too much not to be. Fred and George tease them mercilessly (can't say if I wasn't a few years younger I wouldn't do the same), and Ginny just rolls her eyes whenever they start. She and Harry seemed to co-conspire about it this last summer.

Wonder if Harry will ever have a girlfriend? He seems a bit inept when it comes to the female gender, except for Hermione. He doesn't usually pay much mind to Ginny, except when she's reading him the riot act about something.

It's my understanding little Ginny used to have a crush on Harry. Bet that was cute. But according to my sources (it's amazing how much Fred and George talk, really), that has long since past and Ginny has moved on. Good for her. Harry needs to get his own head sorted out first though, before a girlfriend.

Oh Merlin's beard! Those two are at it again (Remus and Tonks)! Can't quite decipher what about this time, and those ears are downstairs. Bugger that! Oh now they've gone and done it, my mother's bellowing about traitors and Mudbloods. Better go shut the old bat up!


End file.
